


Enough

by cowalwefe



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Setting, Flirting, Kissing, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Other, Sexual Tension, hange is non-binary do not suggest otherwise thnx, nblw relationship, pieck and hange are both little shits, pieck is kinda thirsty, pikuhan supremacy, they are both gay what else is there to say, uhm jean makes a minor appearance but as a cockblock lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowalwefe/pseuds/cowalwefe
Summary: hange just wants to share their cool stories like a wise grandparent. pieck wants them to shut up. oh how could this conflict be resolved?
Relationships: Pieck Finger & Hange Zoë, Pieck Finger/Hange Zoë
Comments: 16
Kudos: 86





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> me: it's 4am, i don't think i am coherent enough to write my research poster :(  
> also me: (churns out 1.9k fic at 5am in 2 hours)
> 
> i haven't written a fic in a good 8 years so i hope this is at least decent? inspired by that fan-made manga panels where pieck told hange that they've been talking for 10 hours and they just kinda went "ok and?"  
> also greatly inspired by the severe lack of pikuhan content (yikes my desperation is showing, pls look away)
> 
> note: i am an anime-only stan (who was greatly spoiled against their own will so idk anymore) so apologies in advance for any canon inaccuracies
> 
> hope you enjoy reading this!

Pieck had enough. The incessant rambling with that unnecessarily deep voice of the person opposite her had to stop. If the animated hand gestures that made their stupidly toned biceps fill out the sleeves of their stupidly tight button-up wasn't bad enough, the endearing excitement bleeding through their being was just too much for Pieck to handle.

Pieck walked into the room two hours ago with the hopes of having some time to herself - to zone out and revert to her usual lethargic state - without anyone feeling uncomfortable from her sheer lack of desire to be perceived. Of course, the universe wasn't always kind.

The squeak of an un-oiled door hinge caused Hange to look up from their book, making eye contact with the raven-haired woman. The room was dimly lit by a candle, strategically placed beside Hange's book. The shadows it cast highlighted the sharp features of the brown-haired soldier and emphasised their presence in the room.

Pieck plastered a small smile, ready to formulate an excuse to retreat to another (hopefully empty) room.

"Hello Pieck!" The commander greeted with a warm smile, "I don't think we've ever talked all that much before, have we?" Pieck held back a sigh and closed the door behind her, giving in to the subtle invitation. How could she say no to that face?

"We haven't been acquainted, I suppose," she replied, walking towards the space opposite Hange. The scrape of the chair against rough wood signalled the start of a conversation that Pieck would soon come to realise was a mistake.

"... we finally reached the basement," Hange breathed out, pausing to take a break from pouring all their energy into the climax of the story. Pieck was visibly tired. Oh, so very tired. Her eyes drooped with fatigue and her shoulders slumped in defeat, but that wasn't enough for the unforgiving Commander to release Pieck from her verbal shackles.

She has to admit, Hange's ability to re-tell a story so full of suffering with such passion and enthusiasm had her intrigued initially - for the first 30 minutes or so. The remaining time to Pieck was just occupied with white noise and a nice face.

"Hange, I appreciate the hospitality," Pieck interrupted, "but it's been 10 hours already." No harm in exaggerating, she figured.

"We still have 4 years of catching up to do!" Hange protested. The titan shifter pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. It's not that she minded spending time with the energetic commander. The problem was that Pieck would rather spend her time with them doing _other_ things. Things with much less talking (although not an entirely silent activity, either).

Since meeting Hange, Pieck has tried to ignore the slowly developing infatuation for the rowdy soldier. She appreciated their bluntness and how they didn't seem to care about what others thought of their questionable obsession with titans. But that wasn't what caught her attention. Pieck wouldn't admit it out loud, but Hange was attractive. Bright-smiles-chiselled-jawline-"I-want-to-run-my-fingers-through-their-hair"-husky-voiced attractive.

As Hange continued - taking the other party's silence for a resignation - Pieck slumped back into her seat. Her eyes continued tracing over their features, imagining what it would be like to press her lips against their jaw, to inject their voice into her veins, to lean into the crook of their neck and take a well-deserved nap after a long day (if Pieck was made to be small person, she might as well take advantage of it).

At this point, Pieck would do anything to get Hange to just _shut up_.

Hange felt a slight shift in the atmosphere, causing them to falter. Pieck was clearly looking at them, but her eyes don't seem to be entirely focused. Her gaze remained fixated on Hange, yet her mind clearly somewhere else.

The commander cleared their throat, pulling Pieck back into reality. "My story-telling's that bad, huh?" Hange asked jokingly. Pieck, recovering from her slight surprise at the sudden straightforwardness, tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think deeply.

"I'd give it a 5/10. Too much rambling and unnecessary details. You're lucky you're hot," Pieck commented, picking at her fingers nonchalantly. She honestly didn't know where this boldness was coming from. Lowered inhibition from her lack of energy? Maybe. The desperation for Hange to just stop talking? Another great contender. In the end, it didn't really matter. All Pieck could hope for was an easy escape. Although, seeing a blubbering mess of the usually confident leader would be a nice bonus.

The woman looked up from her hands, expecting to see a dumbfounded look, only to be met with a shit-eating grin. "Sorry," they said, not an ounce of guilt in their voice, "Pretty girls make me ramble." The titan shifter cursed internally as she felt a swell of heat bubble up from her chest, threatening to spill over and consume her whole.

Did Hange, the apparent dork, just flirt back? How dare they counter Pieck's advances? The utter disrespect was astonishing.

Seeing that Pieck was stunned into silence, Hange continued with their story, satisfied that they put an end to the complaining. "Anyway..." they started.

Pieck really had enough.

The scrape of the chair sounded once again, signalling another potential mistake. It cut off Hange mid-sentence and they looked up in surprise. Before they could register the other woman's expression, a hand reached over to harshly tug at their collar. A warm sensation spread across their lips, leaving Hange in a stupor.

Pieck had planted firm kiss that lasted a mere second, pulling back almost immediately. Hange unconsciously noted that it was too short.

"Uh..." The commander croaked out. "Got you to stop talking," Pieck smirked. Hange's perceived separation of their soul and its flesh vessel left them in a daze. Only after re-attaching their mind to their body, did they feel the heat already settling across their cheeks. They opened and closed their mouth, scrambling to get a sound - any sound - out of their vocal tract.

"For someone who was going at 5 words per second just now, you don't seem to have a lot to say," Pieck chided and licked her lips, "Perhaps this is my cue to leave?" The raven-haired woman turned around, feeling victorious.

She started walking towards the door, feeling the victory gradually morph into bashfulness, as demonstrated by the rush of blood into her cheeks.

She _kissed_ Hange Zoë, Commander of the Survey Corps - ex-enemy of a major war spanning over a couple of years. Just a typical Tuesday night, no big deal. Her ears pounded from the adrenaline rush and embarrassment, which made her fail to notice the footsteps approaching from behind and the crescendo of creaking floorboards.

Pieck hastily turned the doorknob and pulled the door open. But that action was left incomplete.

A hand pushed the door back into place, the slam snapping Pieck out of her racing thoughts. She spun around instinctively and was faced with a towering presence.

Hange's arm on the door framed the panicking woman, eliminating any means of escape. Pieck leaned against the door, her head bumping into the wood as she looked up to meet her captor's gaze. She swallowed unconsciously, noticing how Hange's eyes flitted to her throat before meeting Pieck's eyes again.

"You think you could do that and get away with it?" Hange hissed, voice low and dripping with faux-venom.

"Who said I wanted to get away with it?" Pieck challenged. For someone who just kissed a high-ranking official, she sure was feeling fearless. Hange's jaw clenched visibly, causing Pieck to stiffen - out of primal desire or fear? She'll never find out.

The two soldiers held their ground, never wavering, waiting for the other to make a move. Luckily for Pieck, something went right for her today.

Hange surged forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. One of their hands stayed planted on the door while the other reached behind to lock it before finding its way to Pieck's waist, wrapping around it urgently and pulling her flush against their body. The woman wasted no time in snaking her arms around the taller soldier's neck, deepening the kiss further.

She melted into Hange, soon tracing their cheekbone with her thumb gently, causing Hange to shudder. Feeling a tongue suddenly swipe across her bottom lip, Pieck gasped softly, parting her lips ever so slightly.

"Commander, are you in here?" A muffled voice cut through the door, accompanied with a knock. The two separated and held their breath, pulling back slightly. Pieck slid her hand down from its place of residence on the back of Hange's neck and stopped right below their collarbone, spreading her fingers across the worn fabric.

"If we stay quiet enough, do you think they'll go away?" She whispered, leaning into Hange. They exhaled heavily and tightened their hold on Pieck's waist for a moment before pulling back reluctantly. Chuckling softly, Hange lightly pinched their companion's cheek. "I wish, but duty calls," disappointment evident in their voice. Pieck hummed in reply and started fixing Hange's collar while ironing out any wrinkles from their shirt. Despite her efforts, it still remained slightly ruffled from their prior engagement.

"Commander?" The voice interrupted again, this time rattling the doorknob instead of knocking. Hange frowned slightly and guided one of Pieck's hands from their chest to their lips. She noticed how slender their digits were - how easily they enveloped Pieck's hand. She offhandedly wondered if they were good for other things too.

"Like pulling gun triggers," Pieck scolded herself internally.

Unknown to the inner turmoil stirring in Pieck's conscience, Hange tenderly pressed a light kiss on the centre of her palm, effectively silencing Pieck's roaming thoughts. "I'll see you again soon, promise," Hange murmured into her hand, as if etching the promise into her skin. The brush of their lips left Pieck slightly taken aback from the softness of Hange's tone and actions - a stark contrast to what they have been doing before (although, she really didn't mind both) - but nodded gladly.

"Of course, you don't seem like one to leave any loose ends." Pieck straightened out her shirt and smoothed her hair down, hoping to destroy any traces of the short-lived session. Hange grinned in response and gave way for Pieck to create an acceptable distance between them. They gave the woman one last smile and opened the door.

"Sorry! Got a little too engrossed with my conversation with Pieck that I didn't hear you." Hange rushed out, feigning urgency. Jean stood outside the boundaries of the room, eyebrow raising slightly as he glanced at Pieck, who offered a wave in return. "I got a little worried since the door was locked. Thought you were here getting assassinated or something." Jean replied, maintaining eye contact with Pieck, suspicion clear in his tone.

"Must have locked the door behind me automatically when I came in," Pieck spoke calmly, "being a soldier who values their privacy and safety and whatnot." Jean didn't didn't seem to accept the explanation but dropped the subject nonetheless, slightly hesitant to push further. Hange quickly ushered him out of the room, not before shooting Pieck a wink as they closed the door.

Pieck finally let reality seep in and convinced herself that the past few minutes was not a fever dream. She felt her knees go weak. After dragging herself over to the previously abandoned chair, she collapsed into it and pressed her cheek into the table, finding solace in the cold wood instead of a warm shoulder.

The candle was almost burnt out now - the flame clinging for dear life onto the wicker, hungrily eating away at whatever wax remaining. She stared at her palm before clenching her hand into a fist, as if hoping the lingering feeling of soft, chapped lips would never escape her hold.

Her mind started drifting back to the bright-eyed commander, replaying the events that occurred just a moment ago.

"I don't think I'll ever have enough."

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively,  
> levi: hange, you're late  
> hange: sorry i was doing stuff  
> pieck: i'm stuff  
> levi:  
> hange:  
> jean:  
> yelena: nice
> 
> you can find me on twitter at @generalwoste :)


End file.
